Father's Days
by bikelock28
Summary: "He sees the hoop and snaps. JJ gets the world. He gets the basketball hoop and the family and he gets to be normal. He gets a father. Jerry wants JJ and he didn't want Barney. The hoop's a kids' toy and it shouldn't mean anything, but God it means a lot to Barney right now. Because he never had a hoop, did he?" My takes on the Barney/ Jerry eps in S6. Please R&R. Ch 7 now up!
1. Cleaning House

**As promised, here is my more-serious fic. It follows the Barney/ Jerome episodes in Season 6, and is looking to be around 7 chapters long. It's mostly about Barney and Jerry's relationship, but also bits of B/R , B/N, maybe some T/Z and of course, the awesomeness which is Barney and James.**

**T for language and angst. I don't own HIMYM, or any song lyrics which may be used in this fic. I really hope you enjoy.**

_I seen the madness stack up through_

_Tarpaulin eyes,_

_I have heard you come up,_

_Believing your own lies,_

_Witnessed the blessing rise up in a_

_Very strange disguise_

Madness, NW5

6.02- Cleaning House

"I know I'm not..."Barney cuts himself off. He hates admitting this. It feels painful and uncomfortable and wrong, like he's slowly pulling a splinter out of his arm. But the splinter's been there a long time, and it won't come out easily.

"I know Bob Barker's not really—you know," he can't bring himself to tell them directly. He's admitting the truth, but actually saying those words would be baring his vulnerabilities for them all to see- and he's never going to do that.

"I'm not crazy," Barney adds, trying to persuade himself more than anybody else, "I just... I needed that," Having Bob Barker- some distant guy on the TV who didn't know or care about him, didn't know or care whether or not Barney was his son- had made him feel better. It had made him feel so much more than the kid who didn't have anyone to run for him in the Father's Race on sport's day, or the boy who had to teach himself how to kick a football because there was no daddy to show him how.

Barney forces himself to keep talking. If he's learnt anything from Ted over the last nine years, it's that talking about something can- very occasionally- make you feel better about it. He speaks quickly, getting the words out before he can stop himself, "I know it may sound stupid, but I didn't always feel so great about myself growing up, and having a celebrity dad made me feel special,"

_"How come your d__ad's not here, Barney?"_

_"Oh, he's busy. He'd love to come watch, but he's working. It's his show tonight,"_

_"His show?"_

_"Yeah. The Price Is Right- you know?"_

_"You're dad's on The Price Is Right?"_

_"Haven't I told you? Bob Barker's my dad,"_

_"What, seriously?"_

_"Mmm-hmm. I swear to God. I've got my mom's surname though; they thought that Barney Barker sounded stupid,"_

_"Wow. That's so cool. Hey, off you go, you're up next to bat,"_

"But you're right, James," Bob Barker isn't his dad, but maybe whoever's on the other side of that door will be. Barney feels hopeful- then terrified. He remembers talking to Bob Barker at the end of The Price Is Right- he bottled out because he was scared, and now he feels like doing the same. He's never wanted to _meet _his dad, he only wanted someone to_ say_ was his dad, just so that he could be like everyone else. He never really felt that he _needed_ one- at least that's what he's always believed about himself. But everything Barney believes is being hurled out of the window today. He really isn't sure if he wants to go through with this. This is probably just a big mistake….but James is looking at him; James his big brother who has always been there for him.

_"S'matter, blondie? Keeping your trap shut for once?"_

_He's slight and agile, and he knows he can slip past them if he gets an opening. He's a decent runner, although in truth these boys don't have it in for him in particular; they just like to throw their weight around by intimidating any of the younger kids when they get a chance. He tries to distract them by feigning bravado. _

_"Pfft, yeah right. I'm not scared'a you,"_

_"Really?" The tall freckly boy is grasping onto Barney's shirt, "Cos you don't look too cocky from here,"_

_"Hey! What the hell's going on here?" _

_"James! This kid's been showing us a bit of cheek. Thinks he's a real charmer, y'know,"_

_"Let him go,"_

_"What the-?"_

_"He's my brother. Get your hands off him, Robbie,"_

_The hand on the front of Barney's shirt loosens, but the boys are still towering over him._

_"He's your brother? James, he's _white,"

_"Doesn't matter. That's my little bro you're messing with, and you stay away from him. Okay?"_

_"Jees, Stinson, calm down. We wouldn't have picked on him if we knew you were his brother,"_

_"Well now you know don't you? So keep the hell away from him and his friends. Or you'll have me to answer to,"_

_James glares at the boys, and they saunter away, casting dirty looks at him. Once they're gone, James cuffs Barney on the back of his head._

_"For the love of God, can't you stay out of trouble for five seconds?"_

_"It wasn't me! They go round picking on anyone in my grade!"_

_"Yeah, well you don't make things easy for yourself, do you; with all your stupid lines and your magic. Just keep your head down, alright?"_

_"Ugh. Fine. Whatever, James,"_

_"I mean it. Don't think I'm going to stand up for you every time you get yourself into a scrape,"_

_James pushes his shoulder, irritated, and runs away to re-join the soccer match with his friends. Barney watches him go. He smiles to himself. How many times has James said that to him before?- and yet every time Barney's in trouble, James is there to protect him._

He'll be alright if he has James- they'll do this together. All his best friends are here too; Ted's here- and Ted's good at dealing with this kind of thing. It's going to be okay. He has to man up and face the truth. It's about time he did. "It's time to let go of the fantasies. Time to grow up,"

He is going to be alright. He is going to survive this. He has his big brother and his best friends and this _is going_ to be okay.

He's going to meet his dad.

* * *

Back in Manhattan, James and Barney go for a drink together, just the two of them, like they did the day before James left for college. They both order an exceptionally tall glass of beer. James has no idea what to say. He supposes- as the big brother- that maybe he was more accepting of the truth that Barney ever was. James always knew- it was obvious, but he ignored it and because they never talked about it, he assumed that Barney felt the same. James knows that Barney likes to see himself as a cynic (especially compared to Ted)- but now he realises that its Barney whose been the one hoping and believing all these years. James watches his little brother sip deeply from the glass.

"Meeting Samuel doesn't change anything," he says, "Yeah, I want to get to know him, but right now what links me to him is a handful of DNA. And what links me to you is thirty-three years of love, and football games, and Star Wars and hiding in trees from angry fathers,"

His half-brother brother half-smiles.

"Whatever happens, you're my brother more than Samuel will ever be my dad,"

Barney nods.

"Eli isn't my blood son, or your blood nephew, but we'd both die for that kid, right?"

"Look, I know, okay?" Barney snaps, "Quit talking down to me, I'm an actual adult," _Who spent today convinced that he was black. _"I know that it doesn't matter, it doesn't change anything between you and me. There's you and me and Mom, and we're enough family,"

Barney's always had a hot temper, James reflects, much hotter and unpredictable than his own. But James has had over thirty years to get used to it, and he knows when something's bothering his brother so he says calmly,

"Then what's wrong?"

"Oh God, James, I don't know. Surely it's not that I've spent my whole life believing that you and I have the same dad, and he's Bob Barker, and then today I find out that actually that isn't true, and you've got some other dad who doesn't belong to me and now you know who the other half of you is, and you've just left me behind on my own,"

He's angry and he deserves to be fucking angry. There's a pause.

"That's not fair. You know that's not fair. It could have just have easily been your dad who lived in that house,"

"Well it wasn't, was it? It was yours, James. You dad not mine. And you're so cool with that. How do you think this makes _me _feel? We're brothers, we're equal. We were until today anyway,"

"You knew we didn't have the same father. You're white and I'm black. You knew,"

Even Barney, who is the best liar on earth, couldn't have believed his own lie for so long, could he?

"I _knew _but I didn't think about it. No one ever said anything did they; not Mom, not our uncles or our cousins or our friends. It wasn't like it was a big deal. And I just- I _assumed, _or, I don't know, I stopped _not_ assuming that we didn't have the same dad. It was the safest thing to do, and I got to the stage where I couldn't be bothered not to….I don't know," he laughs in a hollow way, looks into his glass.

"Do you want to meet your dad?" asks James.

"No," Barney replies instantly, "God, no. Mom asked me that earlier. No. I don't want to,"

"Why not? I've met mine, so you can meet yours, can't you? You said we do things together,"

"I don't want to meet him, okay, James? I was sort of ready earlier, and I then looked a total jerk, and now I'm angry at you and I'm angry at everything, all because I got fired up to meet my dad. Look where my dad fucking gets me. So no thanks,"

Although sometimes he wonders if Barney has grown up at all since when they were ten, James knows that really, his brother is an adult. If Barney doesn't want to meet his father, James won't try to persuade him. There's silence for a long time, until Barney says in an extremely small voice,

"You must have thought I was the biggest idiot alive when I thought I was black earlier,"

"Wrong. I thought you were the biggest idiot alive when you thought that we could re-create the Goonies using a tree and seventeen yoyos,"

"Hey, it worked for a bit, didn't it?"

James is glad that he's got his brother to smile. Barney swallows and continues, "It was just hard to let go of us having the same father. It wasn't like I lied so much that I believed it myself, it was just that it didn't occur to me _not _to believe that we had the same dad. And- I don't know- we do everything together, and it wouldn't make sense for you to meet your dad and him not to be mine. I'd today got myself worked up to meet my dad, and then Sameul was black and it was like my stomach had fallen out and there was…. this moment where I knew I could be like, "Oh, okay, he's black, he's James's dad not mine,"- or I could go down fighting. And…"

"Challenge accepted, eh?" teases James.

"Yeah. I wasn't surrendering to the truth," Barney clears his throat awkwardly, then looks away and adds, "I'm sorry I kind of ruined you meeting you dad,"

James smiles. "Kid," he says proudly, putting his arm around him, "You're been ruining stuff for me for thirty years. I wasn't expecting any less of you,"

Barney laughs, but it dies quickly when he realises- for the first time- that with James's arm around him, a stranger in the bar might take him and James to be a couple, rather than brothers. This could have been happening for years. It's never occurred that someone might not instantly believe him and James to be brothers. Or that all their cousins and friends have been thinking how weird it is that the Stinson boys are different colours. People must've been saying this behind his back for years. He remembers introducing James to Ted- he doesn't remember Ted giving him a funny look, but he must have done. Or at least Ted must have thought to himself that it didn't make sense. The world has known, and Barney's been oblivious to it all. He stares down at his shoes, ashamed.

"What's say you and me go back to your place, watch Star Wars, argue about ewoks and eat M 'n' Ms? Retro Stinson-ing," James suggests.

"What about Eli and Tom?"

"Since when were you the responsible adult? They'll be fine for one night,"

Barney imagines Eli, at home tonight with his dad, and stares into his glass for a long, long time.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Please review to let me know what you thought, because I really don't know how good this is. If enough people like it, Chapter 2 will be up soon.**

**Thanks again.**


	2. Natural History

**This was the first chapter I wrote, originally as a Barney/ Robin one-shot. Natural History is one of my favourite episodes, mostly for the lines "Niled it!" and "You have a monocle...good luck killing James Bond!"**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

_ If we can change the weather, _  
_ If you wanted to yourself, _  
_ And if you can't I guess we all need help-_  
_ I need help_

_ You can sit beside me when the world comes down; _  
_ If it doesn't matter then just turn around,_  
_ We don't need our bags and we can just leave town;_  
_ You can sit beside me when the world comes down,_

All American Rejects, Mona Lisa (When The World Comes Down)

6.08- Natural History

Barney grins proudly at her, victorious.

"Stinson was reprimanded and returned to the custody of his father, Jerome Whittaker, "continues the security guard. The word "father," catches Barney, although he's too pre-occupied smirking at Robin for it to sink in properly, "No, uncle. Jerome Whittaker's my uncle," he corrects nonchalantly, "Uncle Jerry,"

The security guard glances at the file again.

"It says father, he even signed it and checked the box for father and everything," he clarifies.

And then the words do sink in "He's my uncle," Barney scoffs, still disbelieving, and takes the file from the guard to prove it. But the file doesn't prove that Jerome Whittaker is Barney's Uncle- it proves the opposite.

Uncle Jerry is Jerome Whittaker is Barney's dad.

The world comes screeching to halt.

There's silence for a few painfully long moments, before Robin decides that she needs to be the one to break it.

"Well, thanks for the warning," she says, the brightness in her voice sounding horribly forced, "Nice talking to you, but we'll be going,"

Barney slowly lays the form back down on the desk, never taking his eyes from it. He remembers standing in the office- probably in this exact same office- nearly thirty years ago. Scuffed jeans and a red Yankees sweater. Hands in his pockets as Jerry signs the form. Jerry pretending to be angry, but ruffling Barney's curls and winking surreptitiously once they were out of the door.

The exact moment comes back to him, and Barney can see the desk and the guard and the form, he can feel the quarter he was holding in his pocket and the graze from where part of the whale had scraped his arm, he can small the dust in the office. His dad had signed the form and confirmed with indelible ink that Jerome Whittaker is Barney Stinson's father. Jerome Whittaker is Barney Stinson's father. After all these years of not looking, he's found his dad anyway.

* * *

They walk in silence to the bar and Robin gets them both a glass of wine. She knows he'd probably prefer scotch but there isn't any.

Barney is distant, lost in his thoughts- and rightly so, Robin reflects. She's as shocked as he is. She never expected Barney's dad to- well, exist. She sits down beside him and runs her fingers along the sides of the wine glass.

"When was the last time you saw him?" she asks.

Everything is falling into place for Barney as he replies, "It was that day. July 23rd, 1981," it was a Thursday. It was sunny. _He was with his dad._

"My mom got pretty mad that he let me destroy a New York City landmark,". He and Jerry had walked home together through Central park together before facing her. Jerry had bought Barney and ice cream. Mint choc-chip. _His dad bought him an ice-cream._ Then Barney realises something else- "He never came around anymore after that,"

That was the last time he'd seen Jerry. His mom had…well, his mom had obviously realised how alike he and his father were, and stopped them become too bad an influence on each other. Barney tells Robin the line his mother fed to him, which he now realises was another of her white lies,

"I think he moved away,"

But that's not the truth. The truth is his mother had stopped him from seeing his dad. The truth is she never told him who Uncle Jerry really was.

Robin has no idea what to say. Barney is so very rarely like this. Nothing ever touches him, nothing. Even when they were dating and she'd seen a different side to him, he was always still Mr Invincible, and fear and panic and hurt bounced off him.

"Maybe the security guy had it wrong," she says, hoping that this is some sort of consolation, knowing it is not, "I mean you never know-"

Barney cuts her off abruptly, because she can try and make him feel better all she wants, but it won't work. He doesn't need to be mollycoddled anymore- what needs is the truth. He doesn't want Robin to lie and try to make him feel better, because she- of all people- should understand.

"But you do know, you do know, that's the thing, you know," he's not making sense but he doesn't care because nothing makes sense any more. Barney swallows and grits his teeth and forces the words out- "He's my dad,"

She has to help him out, but she doesn't know where to start. "Barney, do you want to-"

He cuts her off. He's not going to see his dad. He has to face the truth, but he doesn't have to face the man. "I don't want to do anything," if no one else finds out, maybe he can try and pretend this hasn't happened. Or at least pretend to the others if he can't pretend to himself. "Don't tell anyone about this, okay?"

"Okay,". Because this is a big thing and she's not going to go round telling him what he should and shouldn't be doing or feeling. Barney blinks a few times into the distance. Robin's hand- which has been nervously fiddling with her wine glass - finds his. She links their fingers, holding his hand like his father never did.

"D'you want to dance?" he asks her suddenly. It's Robin's turn to blink back in bewilderment. Why is he asking her to dance? Maybe if this hadn't happened, maybe if they hadn't been caught defiling exhibits, and were in their usual teasing and messing about mode- then maybe she'd understand him asking for a dance. But now, when he's just found out who is father is? Really?

His steely blue eyes look at her hard. She has no idea why he wants to dance with her now- but she never really has any idea why Barney does most things. Nobody does. And right now, he has to come first.

"Sure,"

He dips his head, stands up and lets her lead him onto the dance floor. The song is slow and bluesy, probably not the sort of song you want to be dancing to with your ex-boyfriend, Robin reflects, especially an ex-boyfriend who you….well, whatever. It doesn't matter, because Barney's her friend first and foremost, and whatever rules about exes, and whatever unresolved feelings she may have towards him, shouldn't stop her being here for him. She wraps her arms round Barney's shoulders, and he sets his hands on her waist, and they sway slowly to the music.

Feeling Robin holding onto him makes Barney feel a lot better. One of her hands is across the top of his shoulder-blade; the other is at the nape of his neck, her fingers skimming his hair. He always liked it when she stroked his hair. Barney remembers a play he ran a few years ago when Marshall and Lily moved into their new apartment. He doesn't remember the details, but the line _You make me feel so safe_ comes back to him. Barney's definitely unsure about how he feels towards Robin at the moment, but that line- a cliché bit of flim-flammery he used on some random girl- suddenly makes perfect sense. Her arms around him are grounding him, just when his world is crumbling into confusion. He has a dad. He actually has a father. Not some guy on the TV or an exaggerated fantasy dad- an actual father. Perhaps there were clues when he was little some as to who Uncle Jerry really was, but Barney doesn't remember them. Six- year-olds don't notice things like that. But Uncle Jerry- his father- knew. That day right here in the museum- he knew. And he never said.

_If I had a kid_, Barney thinks, _If I ever found out I had got someone pregnant_- and to be honest, it's quite a likely possibility, with him being King of the One-Night-Stand- _I would be there for that kid. I would go school plays and birthday parties. I'd play soccer and watch cartoons. I'd be a real father._

His own father had had those opportunities, and missed them. _Knowingly._ If Barney's dad was anything like he is, and had accidentally got his Mom pregnant after a hook-up, and he didn't know- maybe that would be okay. Because Barney can see that happening to himself, and it wouldn't be his fault if he didn't know. But Jerry _had known_, and he'd still left him. That truth is like a kick in the gut. His dad had left him by choice. His dad didn't want him. Kick. His Dad didn't want him. Kick. Kick.

"Stay," he mumbles into Robin's hair. Please God, don't let anyone else leave him.

She glances up and his face is so many things- tired, confused, shocked, hurt, lonely, scared. Her heart tenses. God, this must be awful for him.

Robin presses her head his chest and holds him even tighter in her arms. She pretends not to notice the few tear droplets which dampen her hair. "Always,".

* * *

**Thanks for reading, please review! (That includes YOU!)**


	3. Last Words- Oh, Honey

**This was my favourite chapter to write so far. It takes place between the end of the funeral in Last Words, and Oh Honey, when Barney admits to Honey that he's written to his dad who hasn't replied.**

**Lots of angst, quite a bit of swearing. Please review.**

_Mail it today if it's only to say,_

_That you're leaving me. _

_Monday morning, sitting in the sun, _

_Hoping and wishing for the mail to come, _

_Tuesday, never got a word, _

_Wednesday, Thursday, ain't no sign, _

_Drank a half a bottle of iodine,_

_Friday, woe is me,_

_Gonna hang my body from the highest tree. _

_Why don't you write me?_

Simon and Garfunkel, Why Don't You Write Me

6.14/6.15- Last Words/ Oh, Honey

His mom doesn't know Jerry's phone number, but she gives Barney his address, and he scribbles it down on a napkin left over from the funeral buffet.

"Are you sure about this?" asks his mom.

Barney hesitates. "I don-I don't know, Mom. It's just because Marshall's dad died and he was…we all got thinking about our own dads, and the last time we spoke to them, and I…I just thought that I don't want the last time I speak to my dad to be when I was six. Especially as he's, well, around,"

"When did you find out who he was?" She sounds concerned, "You should have told me,"

He wants to snap back that _she should have told him_- but he's too tired, so he wearily replies, "Not long ago. I wanted to pretend that I didn't know, that it didn't happen. I didn't tell anyone," He pinches the bridge of his nose. "But I think I've changed my mind,"

"Hmm,"

"What's he like, Mom?"

Silence. "He's a good guy,". Silence.

Barney wants to tell her that that's not a proper answer; he wants to ask her everything; maybe he wants her to tell him not to do this- because he isn't sure if she should. He feels panic rise in his chest, and quickly rattles off, "Thanks Mom. I've gotta go now," before he says anything stupid or angry. Last words to his mom count too.

"Okay. I love you, kiddo,". She hasn't called him that for ages.

"Love you too,"

Click.

* * *

As soon as Barney's back in his Manhattan apartment the next day, he takes out his laptop and opens Microsoft Word. He saves the blank document as _Dad_ but it doesn't feel right. Barney and "Dad," don't go together. He re-names the file _J Letter_.

He stares at the screen for a while, fingers hovering anxiously above the keyboard. _One step at a time_, he tells himself.

_Dear Dad_- no, not dad. Not only does it sound weird and wrong, but Jerry _isn't_ Barney's dad. They may share some of the same genes, but Jerry stopped being his dad the day he chose to walk out and not come back. _Chose to_, Barney reminds himself. His dad made a _choice_ to leave him. Hot, fast bursts of anger pop in Barney's stomach, so he whacks backspace a few times and types out-

_To Mr Whittaker_- No, no, no, that's worse. What are you, his estate agent? Backspace, backspace.

_To Jer_- Barney stops again. Jerome or Jerry? Jerome or Jerry? He'd always called him Jerry, but that was thirty years ago when Barney still believed that he was his uncle. Jerome or Jerry? He stares at the screen, debating this- he feels like he's caught in a rut, and he hasn't even got to the first line. Eventually, Barney gives in to emotion and exhaustion from the funeral, and falls asleep cross-legged on his bed, with Microsoft Word still open in front of him.

* * *

In the morning his neck is stiff as hell and he knees feel warm and buzzy where the laptop's been on all night. Barney feels pretty rubbish, so he puts on his second-favourtie suit (his favourite suit is reserved for really good days, to make them perfect) and red tie, and tries to concentrate on work.

Everyone's too tired to go to MacLaren's that night, so again Barney finds himself alone in his apartment. Usually he likes coming home to it; to his realm, to the castle where he is King. Everything is how he likes it and there's no one telling him what to do…but tonight the apartment seems unusually quiet and cavernous. Sometimes- rarely, but sometimes- Barney feels jealous of Ted for living with Robin and having her there all the time, and sometimes he feels jealous of Robin for living with Ted and having _him _there all the time. Tonight he feels both, so much that he considers giving them a call and insisting that they hang out. But when he reaches for the phone he can never quite bring himself to dial.

After a while of hanging around emptily doing nothing in particular, Barney decides that the only thing he can do is go back to the thing that's been playing on his mind all day- the thing he wants to forget about by hanging out with Robin and Ted, the thing that's stopping him from calling them because he knows that he has to get it done- the letter. He fetches his laptop and sets it open on his coffee table, stretches his arms and his back and his neck. He's going to do this properly tonight.

Barney skips the address and moves straight on to the opening line.

_My name is Barney Stinson and I'm your son_. Did that sound too blunt, too unexplained? He adds a word. _My name is Barney Stinson and, well, I'm your son_….but that was too casual. It's a big deal. _My name is Barney Stinson and I am writing to tell you that I am your son_. Too formal. "I am writing to tell you,"- it's not a bank statement. He gets rid of the whole sentence.

_Recently, my best friend's father died and it got me thinking about my father. My friend worried about what his dad's last words to him were, and I realised that my father's last words to me were nearly__ years ago, and I didn't even know he was my dad._

_That was you. You're my dad, Jerome, and I'm your son. My name is Barney Stinson, and I'm your son. _

Ugh, yuk. Melodramatic or what? It sounds like something out a dumb kids' book. Barney deletes it all and writes.

_I don't know how to begin this letter, because I never expected to be writing it, and you probably never expected to be reading it. Hi. My name's Barney. I'm thirty-four, and I live on the Upper East Side, NYC. And I don't know how else to say this, but you're my dad._

He hopes that doesn't sound to pen-pal-ish.

_My Mom never told me who my dad was growing up, and I never really thought about it. _This is a big lie, even for Barney, but there's no way in hell he's going to go telling his real father that he felt so abandoned and different to the other kids that he had to pretend that the guy off The Price Is Right was his father._ But I knew you; you were my cool Uncle Jerry. I thought you were the best. Maybe you remember me- I once brought down the whale at the Natural History Museum when I was with you. _

The next paragraph comes out quickly before he can think. _That was the last time I saw you, and actually, that was how I found out that you're my father because I was there again a few months ago and they still had the report in the office, and you had signed it saying you were my father. _

_I never you again after that day- Mom told me you moved away but it was probably because-_

He catches himself and stops abruptly, re-reading the last few sentences. He ponders for a while and finishes- _It was probably because she didn't want me getting in any more trouble. _

_I grew up okay__ and I work at GNB now, but recently my best friend's dad died, and it made me think about you, and it made me want to get in touch with you. I know it's been nearly thirty years since we met, but my friend's dad's last words were really important to him, and I wanted to_- Barney stops again, wondering if this has become too weepy and Teddish. God, this is really tough.

Maybe he's just kidding himself. Maybe there's no point in this at all. Jerry didn't want him when he was a kid, he hasn't wanted him for over thirty years- why the hell would he want anything to do with him now?

Barney's on the verge of giving up, shutting his laptop down and heading out to find a chick for the night, when he remembers Marshall's father on the voicemail. "I love you,". He remembers Lily and Marshall holding on to each other so tightly, and Robin and Ted with red eyes. He remembers the way Marshall used to talk about his dad, like he was some invincible superman. The way Marshall talked about his dad, he made it sound like nothing and no one could hurt you when his dad was around. And Barney has no idea what that's like.

_-I wanted to tell you that you're an asshole. You really fucked me up, you know that? D'you know what I do nearly every night of my life? I scour bars to hit on insecure girls to get one night of sex, and then I never call them again. And you know what?- I love it. I love living like that. It makes me feel great. I like proving myself with schemes and chat up lines, I like proving I'm the best lay that chick's ever had- you know why? Because otherwise I'd just feel shit about myself the whole time, because you never loved me or wanted me. Most people think I'm crazy, and I like being crazy because it means I'm something, which is obviously much more than what you thought I am. And I know I'm a sociopath but how could I not be, when you ditching me screwed up any chance I was going to have of being a regular kid? _

The words are coming faster and faster now, his fingers are blurring like his eyes, and he's making tonnes of spelling errors but he doesn't even notice, because he hasn't even thought about the words he's typing before, but Goddammit they're the truth.

_Once, I hooked up with my best friends' ex, and I honestly thought that was okay. I said sorry to him but I didn't think it was much of a big deal and to be honest I still don't. My friend was really mad at me, and that just shows, doesn't it- not having you fucked me up good and proper, I don't understand friendship or feelings or anything. And then I started falling in love with the ex, and I was repulsed by that. It felt horrible and unnatural and I was so scared, but after ages we started dating. You know what? It was a complete disaster. We barely lasted two months, and I was the worst boyfriend in the world, and I was an even worse fucking ex, and I don't even know how many times I've made this girl cry because I'm such an ass all the time. I still can't look at her without my heart beating harder, but that also makes me feel sick because love seems horrible. And I wish I had seen from you, just had a dad around so I could learn by osmosis about this kind of thing. Everyone else has some in-built system for relationships and feelings, but I don't. I just don't. I survive because I ignore everything. I don't even know how to handle emotion, I mean, I barely have feelings, let alone any sort of capacity to deal with them. AND YOU KNOW WHY? BECUSASE IT'S ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT_

He stops typing. He breathes- heavily, as if he's just been running. He blinks. Blinks again. He can't tell whether or not he's crying.

He swallows, and remembers that he hasn't had anything to drink tonight. He's sober. He typed all that stone-cold sober.

He re-reads.

Fuck.

Numbed by the stark, shameful, _terrifying _truths he's alerted himself to, Barney silently gets up, goes into his room and collapses onto his bed. It takes him forever to get to sleep.

* * *

The next night he opens the file and calmly deletes the rant he typed last night before he can read it again, and carries on from _I know it's been nearly thirty years since we met, but my friend's d__ad's last words were really important to him, and I wanted to-_

_-get in touch. I know you won't be expecting this but - _he pauses-_ I want to meet you, Jerry. I think I need to get some things off my chest. _It's vague, but he can't possibly tell Jerry everything wrote yesterday.

_I'd be really grateful if you called me_. He types out his mobile number, his home phone, his work cell. Then he writes his address, and looks back at the header of the letter. Jerome or Jerry?...he considers both, and settles on Jerry because that's what he knew the guy as. That's a scrap of the connection they once had.

Barney re-reads the whole thing again, making a few adjustments as he goes.

_To Jerry,_

_I don't know how to begin this letter, because I never expected to be writing it, and you probably never expected to be reading it. _

_My name's Barney Stinson. I'm thirty-four, I work for GNB and I live on the Upper East Side, NYC. And I don't know how else to say this, but you're my Dad._

_ My mom never told me who my dad was growing up, and I never really thought about it. But I knew you; you were my cool Uncle Jerry. I thought you were the best. Maybe you remember me- I once brought down the whale at the Natural History Museum when I was with you. That was the last time we were together, and actually, that was how I found out that you're my father because I was there again the other month and they still had the report in the office. The current security guard showed it to me, and you'd signed it as my father. _

_I never saw you again after that day- Mom told me you moved away but it was probably because she didn't want me getting in any more trouble. _

_Anyway, recently my best friend's dad died, and it made me think about you, and it made me want to get in touch with you. I know it's been nearly thirty years since we met, but my friend's father's last words were really important to him, so I wanted to get in contact with you again. I know you won't be expecting this but I want to meet you, Jerry. I think I need to get some things off my chest. I'd be really grateful if you called me._

Barney reads it over again a few times. He isn't a hundred per cent convinced about, "I think I need to get some things off my chest,"- but at the same time, Barney wants to get across to Jerry that he's hurt and- well, fucked up- thanks to Jerry leaving him. He deliberates how to end for a few minutes, and settles with the safe bet of-

_Yours,_

_Barney Stinson_

He checks it again, and plugs the laptop into his printer. Then, just before he presses print, he adds one single line at the end of the letter-

_Please call._

* * *

**Thanks for reading. I hope you liked this chapter. Whatever you thought, please drop me a review, they are much appreciated and I haven't been getting many, so any feedback would make my day.**

**While we're on fathers and sons, congratulations to Will and Kate and their new baby boy :)**


	4. A Change Of Heart

_My father would lift me high and dance with my mother and me,_

_And then spin me around 'til I fell asleep,_

_ Then up the stairs he would carry me,_

_ And I knew for sure I was loved_

Luther Vandross, Dance With My Father

6.18- A Change of Heart

There's a reason why Barney doesn't go into the café. There's a reason why he can't.

It could be because he's scared that Nora's still mad at him (his face still stings from last night). It could be because he doesn't know how he feels about her. It could be because he's never met a girl's parents before, and has no idea what to say. It could be because of the lingering sense of shame that Ted wouldn't let him meet his parents for five years. It could be because of _you're not exactly the kind of friend parents want their kids to have_- Robin hadn't meant to be hurtful, but there's nothing like those words to make you feel like a freak. It could be because meeting parents is most definitely being In A Relationship, and the one thing he's committed to is the war against commitment. It could be because it's a violation of his One Rule. It could be because he's only met Nora twice before, and this is moving way too fast. It could be because he's afraid of commitment, of family, of love.

It could be all of these things. It could be- but it's not. The reason Barney can't open the café door to meet Nora and her parents, is because when he looks through the window, she's chatting and laughing with her dad. And it stings him inside because that's the life he'll never, ever have.

* * *

**It's very short, so the next chapter will be up soon. And it's Legendaddy, so its big one.**

**Please review …especially if you've favourited/followed…you know who you are :P**


	5. Legendaddy

_Father, you left me, _

_ But I never left you,_

_ I needed you, _

_ But you didn't need me_

John Lennon, Mother

6.19- Legendaddy

"This was great. Glad we did this," and he leaves through the MacLaren's doorway without looking back.

Once he's outside, Barney starts to run. And _run_. He runs faster than he can ever remember running, even faster than when he heard that Ted was in hospital. Although then he was running _to _Ted, and now he's running _from _his dad. Sprinting through crossings, dodging pedestrians, skirting taxis, getting sworn at by rickshaw drivers. His suit jacket flaps behind him, like a cape on the superhero that his father isn't.

He runs all the way back to his block and hurdles up the stairs to his apartment. Barney slams the door shut behind him, tosses his jacket onto the couch and hurls himself to the floor, throwing himself into a series of press-ups. He's out of breath from running but he grits his teeth and pumps his shoulders up and down. If he keeps going- keeps exercising and making his muscles burn and make sweat stick his shirt to his skin- then he can prove himself, and distract himself from the feeling of knowing that his father is a nobody. Because _he_ isn't a nobody- he's Barney Stinson, the guy with the suits and the smile and the money, the guy who's slept with 254 women. The guy who can run all the way home from the bar and still be able to exercise for hours. The guy who's above sappy relationships, who lives off sex and cigars and scotch and cynicism, and loves it. The guy who makes every night legendary, who lives like there's no tomorrow. The most awesome guy who's ever lived.

That's who he is, right? He's not the son of dull Jerry who writes books about asparagus. He's the son of someone womanising and rich and cool.

He's a compulsive liar, right? He can lie so well then _he_ believes the lies. And you know what?- Barney thinks, flipping onto his back and beginning a gruelling stint of sit-ups- his dad _is_ cool and rich and womanising, and tonight was legend-wait-for-it-dary, and if he keeps telling that lie then soon he'll forget that it isn't true.

* * *

They can shut up, okay? Barney loves his friends to death, but can they _stop _interfering with his life? Lily's behind this, he notes bitterly. She's always trying to make him a better person, make him get in touch with his feelings and whatever other touchy-feely relationship crap she's always spieling at him. Why can't she ever see that he _doesn't want to_, he's _fine _how he is, If he wanted to change he would, but he doesn't so he won't. Why can't his friends leave him alone and let him forget about his dad?

"Guys, get it through your heads; I am never gonna talk to my dad again,"

Barney doesn't like his dad, so he's having nothing to do with him. He doesn't need his friends telling him what to do. It's his life.

Then Marshall says something which stops him in his tracks.

"No, Barney. _I'm_ never gonna talk to my dad again,"

He'd forgotten that.

"But your dad is alive and he lives just down the road,"

Marshall's dad's _dead. _Barney swallows. Marshall can't do anything with his dad ever again. The book's closed.

For Barney it isn't. For him and Jerry there's still a chance- a chance of _what_ he's got no idea- but a chance of _something_. Barney's always believed that it's better to do something than not to do something- because if you didn't do it you never found out how it would be. And part of him thinks _yeah, well I did do it, I met him once and it sucked and don't let them being all weepy talk me into it, _but part of him thinks _it isn't over and you could give it another go, and Marshall's dad is _dead. Barney isn't sure of what is the bravest thing to do. He's not the biggest fan of hope or of second chances, and he's not the biggest fan of making exceptions. But he _is_ a fan of fighting until the bitter end; of not giving up. Jerry gave up on Barney, but maybe tonight Barney can prove that he's the bigger man by not giving up on Jerry.

"Fine. I'll go,"

* * *

Jerome Junior. The name hangs in the air like an ugly intervention banner. Jerome after his father. Junior because he's the son. Barney's reeling. Jerome Junior. Why is Barney even competing with JJ to impress their father? Jerry isn't Barney's father at all- he's JJ's. They belong to each other and certainly not to him. Barney has to get out of the room before he crumbles. He mumbles an excuse, stands up abruptly and walks outside into the Spring evening.

It had been bad enough a few days ago when he'd discovered that his dad wasn't a drinker, or a playboy, or a roadie- he wasn't even funny. That was disappointing because Barney's thirty years of fantasies had been exactly that. But that his dad has another family, who he's there for... and a son named after him? That's one injustice too many.

Barney's gripped roughly by a white fury- what has JJ done to deserve that dad that he hasn't? Why does JJ get the dad Barney never had? Why does JJ get the _life_ he never had? And why, why the fuck did Jerry walk out on Barney but not on JJ? That's what really hurts.

He sees the hoop and snaps. JJ gets the world. He gets the basketball hoop and the family and he gets to be normal. He gets a father. Jerry wants JJ and he didn't want Barney. Barney knows he wasn't a perfect kid, and he's far from a perfect man now, but that doesn't mean that JJ should get everything, and he should get _nothing. _The hoop's a kids' toy and it shouldn't mean anything, but God it means a lot to Barney right now. Because _he_ never had a hoop, did he?

Barney needs to have the hoop now- one thing to make this all a fraction more fair. He jumps onto the car bonnet, grabs the hoop and yanks it hard. It doesn't budge and he pulls again, twisting his body round to get more force on it. It's screwed tightly to the wall and there's a grim humour to it, Barney supposes- the hoop wants to stay here, doesn't want to go with him; just like his father wants to stay here and didn't want him. He's no good at basketball because he never had a dad to teach him to shoot, and he's no good at being a man because he never had a dad to show him how to be one. His stomach's tearing at him from inside and he's grunting in frustration and the hoop still won't fucking move. And that's when Jerry appears outside.

"Barney, what is going on?"

_Oh, shut up_, Barney thinks_, like I need to answer to you._ But he does anyway, still rattling and tugging the basketball hoop.

"This is mine," A hoop won't make up for a childhood- a life- but it'll be _something. _Something for Barney to have to himself, to have in his life, that JJ doesn't.

He deserves that at least.

"I don't understand,"

_Yeah_, Barney acknowledges bitterly, _like Jerry understands anything about me, has any idea of who I am._

"JJ gets a childhood, a dad, a real family, and a basketball hoop," The injustice of it tastes bitter in his mouth, and Barney remembers what happened with Ted and with Robin and with Nora, and the times he's thought to himself that having a dad would make him able to deal with what happened between him and them. But Jerry left so Barney can't, he can't. It's making him angrier and angrier, and Jerry's gawping at him like he's blameless in all this.

"No, no, I at least get the hoop. I'm taking it with me," It's not a question; it's not a request. It's a statement. This hoop _belongs _to _him._ He doesn't care if it sounds ridiculous, because it can't be any more ridiculous that abandoning YOUR OWN SON, can it?

"Please, just come down and talk to me!" wails Jerry, and if Barney wasn't so worked up right now he'd laugh. Why should he bother wasting his time on someone who couldn't be bothered with him for thirty years? Who didn't want to know him? Who would choose some smart-arse kid over him? Who left Barney to become…this.

"Why, why should I?" he's shouting bitterly now and he doesn't care whose listening. Tears prick at Barney's eyes as Jerry's opening and closing his mouth like a fish- again it's almost comical; it's verging on funny how pathetic Jerry is. Jerry is weak and Barney is strong. He doesn't need to answer to him.

"You're lame, okay?" he spits, "You're just some lame, suburban dad,"

"Then why does that make you so mad?"

Barney doesn't think of an answer; the words tumble out. He screams the truth he didn't know he knew.

"Because if you were going to be some lame, suburban dad, _why couldn't you have been that for me?"_

It's a plea, not a question.

Most of his friends have lame dads. Lily's dad's a gambling addict who forgets her birthday. Robin's dad has never forgiven her for not being his longed-for son. Ted can only talk to his dad about baseball. But although their dads had been lame, at least they'd had them. Jerry may be weak and boring that's at least _something_. Having a dad who is lame and pathetic and nowhere near as awesome as he is, is at least _having a dad._

"Barney," Jerry holds out his hands like he's trying to reason with him, like Barney's the one in the wrong, "I know I screwed up,"

Screwed up? Leaving a kid to grow up not knowing who he is? Having to rely on fantasies because otherwise he'd feel so unwanted? Living off one-night-stands because he can't process relationships? Damning him any chance of being ordinary? Not having a dad is the reason he's cold inside. Not having a dad is the reason he has a self-destruct button for whenever anyone gets too close. He ended his friendship with Ted over Sandcastles incident; he couldn't be in a relationship with Robin; he ruined his chance with Nora, all because he's frightened of letting anyone touch him. Jerry screwed up once, thirty years ago, but that one screw-up has left Barney screwed up for _life._

"Oh, screwed up even doesn't begin to describe-"

Because does Jerry have any idea what it feels like to fuck up your own life? To have to watch while some twisted part of you hurts your friends and makes you feel sickened by falling in love?

Jerry's shouting over him and Barney's shouting back, because if Jerome had stayed and been a lame suburban dad, maybe Barney would have turned out okay. But Jerry chose to leave, and left Barney with failure and fantasies and fucking up everything close to him.

* * *

He's outside Ted's house smoking his third cigarette. Its dark and he can hear the scuffling of foxes in the trees. The hoop's leaning against the wall- Ted promises that he'll but it up next time he's here. A kid needs a hoop. Ted'll make a fantastic dad one day, Barney reflects.

A fox barks. _I'd like nothing more than to be a part of your life._ Barney takes a drag on the cigarette. _Does_ he want Jerry in his life? Does Jerry think that this'll make up for everything that's happened? If he does, he's an idiot, because although they've met again and he's taught Barney how to use a screwdriver (wow, what a heart-warming spectacle of father/son bonding), it's not going to undo thirty years' worth of feeling abandoned. It's not going to rewrite his past. It's not going to heal. Anyway, Barney wanted to meet his dad to talk to him again- not to find a family. Its thirty years too late for that. He could leave this as a one-off, like Ted's night with Victoria a few years ago was supposed to be. Except where their night had been romantic and sweet (by Ted's standards), Barney's evening with his dad has been bitter and uncomfortable and angry. He doesn't want that again.

The door slides open behind him, and the last person he expected to see is there- Marshall. Barney looks at him, then turns away.

"You okay?" asks Marshall gently. Barney shrugs, and offers the cigarette packet to him.

"I said I'd stop now we're trying for a baby, but one won't hurt," he takes a cigarette and Barney hands him the lighter. Marshall lights up and they smoke together in silence.

"You really want a kid," says Barney, looking straight ahead into the darkness, "Don't you?"

"Yeah. Really."

"You want to be a family."

Marshall will be a great dad too, Barney contemplates. Both of his best friends in the world are desperate to have kids, and they'll be amazing dads. No, not amazing- Barney realises abruptly- they'll be lame, suburban dads. Marshall and Ted go along with his crazy schemes and legendary nights because they're his friends- but really, they're normal guys who'll make normal, lame, suburban dads. Or perhaps the lame, suburban dads are the amazing ones. Perhaps it's the same thing.

"Yeah, we want to be a family, but you're our family as well. We're not going to ditch you when we have a baby,"

Barney laughs without humour "That's not what I'm worried about,"

Any other night, he'd joke about how they need him to make their lives legendary.

"What _are_ you worried about then?"

"I'm not. I was worried earlier, but now I've done it I'm not. It just…it's weird, you know? I wanted him to be as awesome as I am- I mean, I thought he would be- and he's not. But now I think that perhaps-"he can't admit to Marshall everything he thought earlier about being screwed up and about perhaps having needed a lame, suburban dad. Barney coughs and continues, "Anyway he's got this _kid, _with the same _name, _and God that just _got_ me. That kid's got the whole world. And the name- it was like Jerry making it official that he didn't want me. S'why I took the hoop, because if my dad had stayed I'd've got a basketball hoop, but he didn't so I never had one,"

He laughs like a dead man again, "There's a metaphor if there ever was one."

Barney thinks about Marshall and Lily trying for a baby, and Marshall's dad being dead- there's a parallel to it about fathers and sons which Barney sees, but knows he can't understand.

Marshall opens his mouth as if to ask something, but Barney interrupts.

"You don't need to ask me if I want to talk about it. I don't," he says bluntly.

Very quietly, Marshall replies, "Okay,"

They stand on the front porch of Ted's house in the chilly night air. Smoke billows around, swirling and cloying like the confusion in Barney's thoughts.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, I hope I did justice to such a brilliant episode. Any reviews are appreciated an unbelievable amount.**


	6. Hopeless

**This one's been tough, because it's hard to work out what Barney's logic is (well, that's always the case, but in this episode especially- him inviting Jerry out seems a bit random and unexplained. And the too-far-gone speech always seems OOC to me). Anyway, if you've stuck with this from Ch1, thanks very much. I hope you like this chapter.**

_He says, "Son, can you play me a memory _

_I'm not really sure how it goes, _

_But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete _

_When I wore a younger man's clothes,"_

Billy Joel, Piano Man

6.21- Hopeless

Fishing with his dad_ sucks_. It sucks so much that Barney might even prefer to be in one of Ted's architecture lectures. He and JJ and Jerry are sitting in their rented wooden boat; JJ with his chin in his hands gazing into the water, Jerry fiddling about with the rods and Barney in the middle, wondering why he agreed to this in the first place. He's tired and stiff, and if he gets any water or pond-y crap on his suit he may well go insane.

The sun's glaring sweatily down, and Barney wonders how long it's been since the last tug on the rod (not a euphemism). They haven't caught one single fish, which- last time Barney looked- is contradictory to the entire point of fishing. Yup, this definitely one hundred per cent sucks.

Barney thinks back to yesterday when his dad called, and how he'd point-blank refused him-

_"Look, would you like to go fishing with me and JJ on Sunday morning?" _

_He nearly bursts out laughing. His father's a failure. A disappointment. Barney doesn't want to hang out with a plain old man, or a snotty kid named after him._

_ "Ooh, hold on, let me check my personality. Oh no, turns out I would never do that in a million years,"_

_He doesn't care how spiteful it sounds. He's got every right to behave however he wants to his father. Jerry deserves nothing from him._

_"So I'll see you. Or maybe not. Bye,"_

But the more he had thought about it, the more an idea had germinated in his brain. There were two aspects of his current situation- One; Jerry left Barney to grow up fatherless, feeling like an abandoned loser and growing up to be cold and afraid of normal relationships. Two; that Jerry was not the man Barney expected him to be. Barney had wanted the rock 'n' roller he remembered from when he was a kid, not the married man with the wife and kids who went _fishing._

The first issue was obviously much bigger than the second, but if Barney separated them, he reckoned he had a solution to Part Two. A mad night out to show Jerry just how awesome the life he'd given up- the life Barney lives and loves- is. To win back Crazy Jerry. And it was gonna be legend- wait-for-it…

* * *

Hmm. His big idea hadn't gone well at first. Hopeless wasn't as exciting as Barney remembered, and Jerry looked keen to slink off back to suburgatory. So obviously, Barney had the perfect solution-

_ "Let's do shots!"_

_Shots are going to make his dad the guy who Barney _wants_ to hang out with._

_ "Uh, no, thank you, Barney. I have that fishing trip with JJ early tomorrow,"_

_Choosing the kid over him. Again. _Again._ Barney feels like he'd been doused with hot, stinging water. He's half deciding to give up, to resolve that this was a terrible idea and he shouldn't have called back inviting Jerry out. A bitter remark is in his mouth -_screw you and your son and your perfect family, and thanks again for leaving me without that;_ and then he'll never call, he'll pretend this didn't happen, like he should have done after the night of the basketball hoop, like he should have done after the museum. _

_ "But I want to hang out with you," protests Jerry, sounding lame and pathetic as usual. Barney wonders why he's spent so long wasting his time on what's obviously a hopeless case._

_ "I want Crazy Jerry. Not Stay At Home Jerome," he says bitterly. _

_He's tried to make his father legendary, but it hasn't worked. Barney doesn't do second chances, and if he's calculated correctly, by now Jerry's had a second and third chance- and he's still weak and boring, and he still doesn't want Barney._

But then Jerry had done something entirely unexpected. He downed a shot, then another, then another.

_"Fine. You want Crazy Jerry? There! You got him!"_

_Barney gapes in amazement. And then he grins- half-triumphant, half-wary- and orders himself a round of shots. Jerry's still weak, he still doesn't want Barney, but he might be about to redeem himself from "boring,"…._

* * *

He thought it had worked. He thought that he'd reverted his father to Crazy Jerry, the sort of guy who _is_ the father of Barney Stinson.

_ "Can you believe it?" he exclaims, "This is awesome!" Jerry's finally_ _being the person Barney wants him to be and realising that there's more to life than mortgage-paying and PTA meetings. _

_And then…Jerry's dancing like a giraffe having a seizure, and Barney's toes are curling in his shoes and he feels a strong desire to fidget with his tie and to get out of here- preferably without Jerry._

_"Barney, how is _that_ awesome?" Robin grumbles sceptically. She has a point. Jerry's being _so_ embarrassing right now. He's trying to be cool and failing miserably. He's got his tie around his head and is jerking erratically out of time to the music. In short, Jerry is making a complete fool of himself, and Barney wants to deny that he is any relation to the old dude acting like an idiot._

_And he's never felt more whole._

_"I finally know what it's like to be embarrassed by my dad,"_

* * *

And so before long, they had ended up wasted, careering down the street picking fights and tearing up bins.

His father was cool- he was legen-wait-for-it-Jerry; legenJerry! They were more alike than Barney had realised- his father obviously shared his penchant for trouble and madcap stories and living like there's no tomorrow.

And it's this attitude which they both share, which resulted in them handcuffed together beside a police car.

_ "It's okay, Dad," _

_ He calls him Dad._ _It feels like when he called Robin his girlfriend- it wasn't the safest he'd ever felt, but it didn't feel awful. But he ploughs on talking so as not to make a big deal of it__**, "**__I never thought tonight would be so awesome! So next stop, strip club…" he'll get Jerry the best strippers there are, and they'll both get lap dances, and-_

_"Oh, for corn's sake, Barney, I'm not drunk!"_

_"What?" What?_

_"I told you, I don't party anymore, and you wouldn't take no for an answer. So I used a little sleight-of-hand to make you think otherwise,"_

_ No. No, this is Crazy Jerry. This is Barney and his manic, wonderful father getting arrested together for puking on a police car. This is how it's meant to be. His dad's been like this all night- he'd proved that he wasn't just some docile house cat, that he was everything he had been; everything he should be- everything Barney wants him to be._

_"But all those crazy things you did…" Barney murmurs, bemused._

_"Do you happen to remember what a magician's best friend is? A drunk audience," and Jerry explains how he's been conning Barney all night._

_"Well, why do all those things?" Barney doesn't know what else to say._

_"I figured if I showed you what "never stop partying" really looked like, you'd realise you can't do it forever," _

_"You lied to me all night… for your own selfish reasons?"_

_Barney's pretty sure that he _can _party forever, but that aside- perhaps this actually _confirms _how alike they are. Because lying for his own selfish reasons is what Barney does all day every day- lie to the Koreans, lie to his colleagues, to his friends, to himself- for no other reason than that he enjoys it, or that it'll work in his favour. And Jerry's exactly the same._

_"Daddy!"_

_ In all his life he's never called anybody that._

_"I wanted to hang out with you- you're my son,"_

_In all his life nobody's ever called him that._

_He's never going to forgive Jerry. He's still going to feel hurt and abandoned, and he's always going to value James and his Mom and his friends way more than he values Jerry. But maybe Jerry _can _be Barney's dad after all. He's lame and-it turns out- not so legenJerry after all- but they're similar. They're both liars and cheats, and they're both magicians. And although Barney wants Crazy Jerry, perhaps he _needs _Stay At Home Jerome. Perhaps that's who he's always needed._

Jerry had been keen to return to the suburbs in time for this fishing trip. Barney was averse to doing anything that tedious- now he wishes that he'd followed through and not come- but he'd thought that he could help his father out. In truth, Barney's more into card and fire tricks than escapism, but he'd had an idea and…

_…a bit to the left…and if he squashes his fingertips up together and tenses his wrist…._

_"Hey, you know, a pretty good magician like you probably knows how to, say, get out of a standard set of handcuffs,"_

I've got this_, Barney thinks, _almost there_….left a bit more and back…_

_ "Perhaps," says Jerry. Nah, not perhaps- definitely._

_Barney can't hide the smirk on his face. He'll finally prove something to his father. Then Jerry might want him a tiny bit more than he did before._

_"Well, here's something you didn't know," there's a clinks as the handcuffs slip off his wrists and onto the pavement, "I'm a pretty good magician, too,"_

_He withdraws his hands from behind his back and holds them up in front of him. Jerry blinks a couple of times, confused. Then he looks at Barney and he smiles. _

_Barney smiles back like an idiot, because for the first time, he's made his father proud._

* * *

Later, they'd been driving back to Jerry's house in the early morning. Barney was in the middle seat, framed behind Jerry and the old lady (Parsons? Perkins? What was her name?) and tapping his fingers impatiently on his knees.

_ "How did you do it?" he asks._

_"Do what?"_

_"How did you become this?" Jerry used to be a head case dude with long hair, and now he's got a wife and kids and he teaches old ladies to drive. Barney can barely comprehend the change._

_ "I mean, I love my life, but I'm not sure I _like _loving it," He has everything he wants- money and sex and- well, that's about it really. It's hardly anything real, but so what?- he isn't Ted, he's not got some saddo desire to search for meaning in life. Money and sex are enough for him. But Barney wonders; if Jerry had stayed-_could_ he have been ordinary? The thought of some other (better?) life he could have had is frightening, and he's trying to grasp some reassurance form his father, but Jerry's busy correcting the lady driving the car._

_"Hey, I'm trying to open up to you," Barney protests. Jerry putting someone else in front of Barney. Again._

"_Perkins, you're drifting! Go on, Barney,"_

"_When I think about going for anything more than that," which he promised himself he never would, and in truth he doesn't want to change- not now at least… but with friends like Ted and Lily, and with Robin still around and still making him tongue-tied at times, he can't help it if sometimes he wonders what settling down would be like. Nora made him think about it specifically- a pool and three children, and it had made it seem more…more like the sort of thing that could happen. It's more of a hypothetical experiment than an actual goal, but he does wonder._

_ And then there are occasions when Barney says something and somebody looks at him like he's an utter freak- and it hurts more than he admits. On top of that, there's everything he wrote in the letter which he can't forget about. _

_Maybe, if he wanted to change, he couldn't. Not now._

_"I look at my life, and who I am, and" he's awesome, but- "I'm too far gone. I'm broken,"_

Jerry broke me,_ is what Barney means. _Well, not broke- I've never been fixed_. _I could never be regular without you around. _He'll never forget that._

_Barney's father turns around in his seat_

"_Son, I was far more broken than you'll ever be," _I highly doubt that, _thinks Barney bitterly, _you broke me before I had a chance to form properly. Not on the inside, anyhow.

_ "And look at me now_," _Weak. But he still…he's still more human than Barney._

"_Don't get me wrong- settling down is a challenge. It's the biggest challenge of your life,"_

"_So how do you do it?" asks Barney, incredulously. He doesn't want to- not yet, perhaps not ever- but if he ever did, _could_ he?_

_ "A magician never reveals his greatest trick," says Jerry. Barney almost rolls his eyes, because he's the one trying to connect, and his father's being cryptic for the sake of it. "But I'll give you a hint," continues Jerry. Barney listens, although more out of curiosity than necessity "You gotta meet the right girl," Gee, what a Ted thing to say. "Who knows?" Jerry adds cheerfully, "Maybe you'll meet her tomorrow,"_

_Barney gazes blankly into the gap between the front two seats. He thinks about Shannon and how much she'd hurt him, but how maybe that was the most honest relationship he's ever had. He remembers making that tape and crying. He remembers storming out when Lily played it years later, and visiting Shannon and her having a kid. It could've been his kid. Could've been his life. _

_He thinks about Robin and kissing her for the first time, and being frightened for the next year because he had no clue what to do about being in love with her. He remembers their summer together, when it was just them in their own world, being happy. The first month or so of their official relationship was kind of similar- but then they'd started to fight and they couldn't stop, and they'd both stopped being awesome. Neither of them wanted to be defined by their involvement with the other. In the end, their relationship simply didn't work. Neither of them expected them to. However, he still- well, he still…he isn't sure. As Robin herself had once said to him, emotional stuff isn't his thing. He tries not to entertain ideas about _them_ too much. Even at night when he's alone, he's got good at blocking out memories and lingering feelings. They're fine as friends now. They wouldn't work out a second time. Barney remembers what he said earlier- "You know you were never happier than when you were with her,". He's phrased it as something Jerry would say, although he had no idea if it was. Barney and Jerry hadn't met when he and Robin had been dating. "You guys were cute together,"-, Jerry wouldn't know, would he, he wasn't with them when they dated. But Barney ignores that. He ignores thetruth about never being happier than when he was with her, as well._

_He thinks about Nora, and her being the only person to ever made him seriously consider the marriage/ children/ family scenario. She'd snuck under his skin and wheedled it out of him before he knew what she'd done. Barney isn't sure if he really wants that- he's honestly not sure whether he was lying or telling the truth to her about all that. But she'd made him think seriously about it, and that's a hell of a lot._

_Then, Barney remembers being hit by the bus on his way to hospital. It was so sudden he doesn't remember the pain- he remembers very little about that day. What he does remember, however, is Robin. Between the shocked confusion of the bus hitting him, and everything going black- in that split-second of terror, the last thing he thought of was Robin Scherbatsky's laugh. _

_ "Maybe I've met her already," _

_What if Parker lost control of the car and it crashed right now. What would be the last thing he'd think of? _

_He has a terrifying feeling that it'd be the same thing._

_"_And park," Jerry had said, tugging Barney from his thoughts, "And emergency brake,"

He had resolved then to sort his relationship with his father out first, then perhaps move on to girls. Because emotional stuff isn't his thing, so he'll try to deal with the Trouble bit by bit.

"I did have a good time tonight," Jerry had said. That meant more to Barney than he'll ever admit, even to himself.

"_And hey, if you want to go fishing, we've got room in the boat,"_

_He's not that far yet. Things aren't okay and he's not ready to go on some family day out- not with the family he never had and JJ does have. Someday Barney might join him on a fishing trip, but not today. _

_ "Maybe some other time," he says vaguely. _

_ "Okay," says Jerry. He doesn't sound disappointed. He sounds like he knew it was coming. But then he does something Barney isn't expecting. Jerry reaches out and passes his hand by Barney's ear, like Barney himself sometimes does with Eli. Jerry holds out the button, smiles gently and says,_

_"Oh, and, thanks for taking such good care of this,"_

_ Barney gawps. It's the same button Jerry used when he left almost thirty years ago!_

_"It means a lot to me that you kept it safe all these years," _

That was the first time Barney had considered that Jerry possibly feels a little bad for leaving him. Perhaps Jerry can-slightly- empathise with Barney. Maybe Jerry thought of him.

_His father gets out of the car. Barney watches him go- back into his house with his family where he's settled down with the right girl. That isn't the life he had as a kid. It isn't the life he wants now. But Jerry perhaps remembered him, and he had tried hard for Barney last night, and he danced embarrassingly like people's dads did, and he did magic like Barney does, and there was one moment when Jerry was proud of him. _

"_I'm going fishing with my dad!"_

* * *

Barney wonders how wise a decision that was, because this is _not fun. _JJ's not trailing his hand through the water, and if he dares flick anything at Barney, Barney will throw the stuck-up idiot into the water.

He's fidgeting with his pockets, and it vaguely reminds him of being in school when his teachers would nag him again and again to stop fiddling or pay attention.

Barney considers launching into a rousing rendition of the dirtiest drinking songs he can think of, although without and Ted and without Robin and without alcohol, it'd be pretty stale.

He has to face it then- this trip is torture and there's nothing he can do to relieve any of the tediousness.

Then, Barney remembers something- _If you were going to be some lame, suburban dad, why couldn't you have been that for me!?_ This is what lame, suburban dads and their sons _do_. This fishing trip sucks, and they're going to come home tired and dirty and fed up, and later he'll complain to his friends about how crap his weekend has been. And that's _exactly _what other kids do with their fathers- Barney can remember his school friends moaning about their own unsuccessful fishing trips when he was a kid. This is what boys who have dads do with those dads. This is what he missed out on as a boy. This is what he was so angry that JJ has that he didn't.

This is him, Barney Stinson, on a crap, tedious fishing trip with his dad.

Barney glances round once more at Jerry and JJ and the boat and the lake, and he's bored to death- but this kind of bored to death is awesome, because maybe it's exactly what he's wanted all along.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. I'm not as happy with this chapter as I have been with the last few, so please review to let me know what you think- good, bad, awful- I don't mind but any feedback is great (that includes you. Yes, ****_you_****). There's going to be an epilogue to follow in a few days. Thanks again :)**


	7. Epilogue

**Last chapter! This was only meant to be about a thousand words, so naturally it ended up as the longest chapter yet :P There's a few cameos from other characters in this one, because IMO the whole Barney/ Jerry storyline impacts massively on Barney's relationships with everyone else. Warning: There's a massive long paragraph towards the end, you might need a snack to help you get through it ;)**

**I hope you enjoy the Epilogue.**

_Nothing, it seems, lasts forever,_

_ People change just like the weather,_

_ Some for good and sometimes never-_

_ I hope things work out for the better_

Madness, NW5

Epilogue

_July 2011_

He's on his back, grinning up at the ceiling while the girl in bed beside him gushes, "Mmm, that was amazing. You're amazing, you know,"

"Yeah," he smirks, "I know,"

Barney's about to stretch, roll over and then make his excuses and leave- when his phone starts buzzing from his trouser pocket.

"Can I take that?"

"Go ahead,"

He leans over the side of the bed to retrieve his suit trousers, and fishes for his phone in the pocket. The name onscreen reads _Jerry _(he can't bring himself to change it to _Dad_)

"Hello,"

"Barney. How're you?"

Barney glances around the strange bedroom, at the girls' bra and his tie hanging side by side off the bed knob, and at her making please-hurry-up-so-we-can-go-again eyes at him.

"I'm great. You?"

"Good, good. Listen, its JJ's birthday on Wednesday. He's going to the movies with his friends that night, but we were going to have a barbeque on Thursday. We were wondering if you'd like to come?"

Barney's Mom had done similar a similar kind of thing for his and James' birthdays when they were kids- a proper birthday party would be bowling or swimming at the weekend, but on the actual day of James' birthday, their friends would come over and they'd all play soccer and eat crisps and cake (they'd never had a barbeque). Barney's birthday's in November, so there would be an indoor picnic where everyone would scoff biscuits and Smarties on the floor in front of the television. It seems pretty lame now, but back then it used to be the coolest thing in the world.

Barney hasn't seen his father since they went for a drink in the last week of June. But…it's_ JJ's_ birthday and Jerry will be there for it- he wasn't there for any of Barney's birthdays. That's hardly going to make him feel good.

Meanwhile, Barney still doesn't JJ like him much, and he can't help thinking that he could sort things out much better with his dad if it wasn't for the kid- or if at least he didn't have the same damn name. Every time Barney thinks about JJ, he remembers what the letters stand for and how it represents that his father wanted JJ and not him. He'll say no then- _"Sorry Jerry, I'm busy on Thursday. There's a really important conference call,"- _it would be an improvement on when Jerry invited on the fishing trip and Barney said that he'd "never do that in a million years,". Even if it's a rejection, he's still being nicer about it.

Barney thinks back to the fishing trip. JJ being there hadn't made him feel bitter. It was still Barney and his dad together. He-he wants that. He knows that doing father/son type stuff with Jerry now won't change the fact that Jerry left him, or fill up the gaps in Barney's childhood. But (he doesn't admit this to anyone) it had felt _great _being on a tedious fishing trip with his father. It feels _great _when Barney meets him for a drink. Barney doesn't want to become a regular guy- but it doesn't half feel good when he can sometimes be a regular guy doing regular things with his regular dad.

He takes a deep breath.

"Sure? What time do I need to be there?"

Jerry tells him a few details and they exchange a little more conversation before ringing off.

"Who was that?" asks the girl.

"The Philharmonic," Barney replies without missing a beat, "It's a couple more hours before I need to be there, so d'you wanna…?"

The girl looks at him- and Barney can tell that she sees through the lie. She knows he isn't a concert violinist and he isn't performing in Eine Kleine Nachtmusik later tonight. This is disappointing- but Barney's disappointment is overthrown by pride when the girl who knows full well that he's playing and lying to her rolls closer to him, snakes an arm around his torso and presses her mouth to his neck.

* * *

When he gets home later that night, Barney realises with a crash that he'll have to but the damn kid a birthday present. JJ's turning twelve- what the hell do you get for a twelve-year-old boy?

"Whatever you do, don't but him a porn film," recommends Ted firmly when Barney calls him up to ask, "Like you have for me on my last five birthdays,"

"You love it, Mosby. Anyway, earlier I was with this chick who-"

"Barney, for the last time- I am not hooking up with a girl who you've hooked up with. _Ever_,"

But Barney's already rifling through his wallet for the girl's number. As he's leafing through the money, ticket stubs, condom wrappers and receipts, he comes across his Laser Tag membership card. Aha.

"Actually, Ted, never mind. I'll see you tomorrow at MacLaren's,"

He might just have found the solution.

* * *

Carli answers the door.

"Oh, hey you,"

She gives him a brief smile then turns her attention back to her Blackberry, moving aside slightly to let him in. Barney's met his little sister(God that sounds weird. Him, having a little sister! He can barely get his head around i_t_) a few times before and he's got to say that he rather likes her. They're similar in the way that they both take no prisoners, and they both don't care how rude or cruel the words that come out of their mouths are.

Another way they're alike is that they're both exceedingly promiscuous, and Barney isn't sure how he feels about this. He remembers Ted going mental when he thought that Barney and Heather had hooked up- but then, Ted had had a lifetime of looking out for his little sister, and Barney's had four months; he has much less reason to feel protective, right? He hasn't got an in-built instinct to keep her a pure maiden.

"Hello, Carlisle," he greets, stepping past her into the house.

She doesn't look up and replies grudgingly, "I told you, that's _not _my name,"

"Whatever, Carlos. Where's Jerry?"

"In the garden with J. He's got some kind of remote control plane thing they're messing about with. Anyway,"

Barney's noticed that Carli uses "anyway," as a farewell, and she obviously means it in that way now because she runs back upstairs, her pink Converses thumping on the steps.

* * *

In event, JJ's birthday barbeque is alright. There's hot dogs and burgers and cake and beer, and JJ's pleased that Barney's present is to take him and his friends to Laser Tag at the weekend. By half nine, the kid's gone inside to play with his new Nintendo Wii game and Mrs Whittaker's upstairs attempting to hold a human conversation with her daughter. This leaves Barney and his father alone together in the garden.

"Another beer?" offers Jerry, delving into the mini fridge stationed outside to keep the drinks cool. Barney nods and Jerry passes him a can and gets a milk carton for himself. Barney shakes his head in half-amusement, half-exasperation (ha, like normal guys do when their dads do something lame) and takes sip of beer. It tastes cold and metallic.

"How's work?" Jerry asks casually.

"Fine. You know I can't tell you much,"

"Barney, you never tell me anything about your job,"

"Trust me, Dad, it's better that way,"

That's the thirteenth time that Barney's ever called him "Dad," He keeps track which- he accepts- shows it isn't natural or comfortable for him yet - but at least he's trying (for the record, Jerry had called him "son," six times and "kid," twice. Barney wonders if Jerry keeps a tally too).

"Did Perkins pass her test?" he asks.

"No, she forgot to check her wing mirror,"

"Oh,"

"Ah, she'll pass next time. Did you catch the Yankees game last week?"

It never escapes Barney that their conversations stem from forced, second-date type questions. It's not an easy dynamic, so he has to go all-out when there's something he really _can_ talk about.

"Yeah! God, that was the best catch I've seen all season," Barney replies (even though it was at least the third best), and launches into full-on baseball geek mode, going through all his predictions and tactics. They spend the next forty minutes animatedly discussing the baseball league as dusk falls. Although the conversation is bumpy and superficial, Barney can't help but think that this is _another_ thing regular guys and their dads do. And so he talks and talks about pitchers and shots, and argues with Jerry about who the Red Sox should play on third base- and it feels amazing, albeit in a muted way.

They're only interrupted when JJ's voice shouts, "Dad! The TV's gone weird again! Screen's gone all black!"

Jerry grimaces apologetically at Barney, then calls back, "Hang on! I'll teach you how to do it- now you're twelve you should learn to do these things for yourself,"

Barney remembers a few months ago when the others had mocked him for not being able to fix his own television- the night he met Jerry for the first time. And now Jerry's off to teach his own son how to fix the TV, like he was never there to do for Barney. Because JJ's his real son, and Barney never quite will be.

He swallows. It's late. The evening feels much colder than it did a moment ago. _He's got a real family that I'm not part of. I can call him "Dad," and count off the father/son things we do- but he isn't really my dad, not in the way that counts._

"I should go," Barney says abruptly.

"Alright," says Jerry softly, standing up. He walks Barney to the front door.

"JJ! Carli! Barney's going now, so say goodbye,"

JJ appears from the sitting room.

"See you for Laser Tag on Saturday!" he says excitedly. Barney will never love the kid, but he's alright, he supposes.

"Yeah. See you, Squirt,"

"Dad, it's broken…" JJ whines.

"Just hold on a minute. Carli?"

"Fine," comes her moody voice from upstairs, "Bye,"

"Don't get pregnant, Carluccio," Barney replies.

"You're a jerk,"

He laughs.

"Thanks for coming," says Jerry, "I didn't know if you would,"

Barney can't think of anything to say, so he gives his father a lop-sided smile. After a beat, Jerry clears his throat awkwardly and opens the door.

"Well, goodbye,"

"Yeah, bye, Jerry,"

Barney steps out onto the porch, thinking that this is the sort of moment where they'd hug.

"I'll see you sometime soon," Jerry says vaguely- then smiles a weak smile and hurriedly closes the door.

* * *

Jerry's house isn't far from the Giant Eagle and the petrol station, so Barney walks there and calls a cab to take him back to Manhattan. Its costs a fortune to get home from the suburbs, but Barney Stinson does _not _take the subway.

In the back of the taxi, Barney thinks about his father. Things are okaybetween them- their conversations are thoughtful and clinical and there's still a ton of unsaid thing on both sides- but he actually _likes _his father. He knows that James is closer to Samuel than he is to Jerry- although James does have the advantage of a cute three-year-old to break the ice.

_Just had BBQ with Jerry_, Barney texts to James. He taps his palms on his knees for a couple of minutes, before his brother replies with-

_How'd it go? _

_Fine. _He hesitates. _Still reminds me of what we never had though. You're lucky Sam can be Eli's granddad even if he couldn't be your dad._

_You OK dude? Sounds like you've been going a bit heavy on the red wine?_

He sighs. _Nah, just Tedding out a bit. I guess I have lots of time to think coming home from where Jerry lives in outer Mongolia. _

He's temped to call James up and ask if he ever wishes that they could go back to before their Mom moved- when they were the same and he'd stopped thinking about his dad because it didn't matter-they were the Stinson boys together. But now it _does_ matter- James is half Stinson and half Gibbs, and Barney's half Stinson and half Whittaker. Well, not half, Barney corrects himself. His dad will never be that much a part of him. Although he'll give Jerry…thirteen per cent. Barney's eight-seven per cent Stinson and thirteen per cent Whittaker.

He reflects on the day their Mom moved, when the whole business about fathers had opened up- catching him painfully by surprise like a shaving cut. After they'd met Samuel, and Barney had had to finally admit about him and James and Bob Barker, they'd gone back to the house one last time. His Mom had asked him if he wanted to meet his dad, and Barney had refused because his Mom was all the dad he'd ever need. He'd meant that and he'd believed it- and he wishes that he still did. But since he's met Jerry, Barney's realised that he really _had_ needed a father.

His Mom had worked so damn hard for him and James, but in the end she couldn't be everything he needed. Neither of them are to blame- but Barney feels guilty because she tried her best and it wasn't enough, and he wishes that she _had_ been all the dad he'll ever need.

He unlocks his phone and texts hurriedly.

_You're the awesomest Mom ever and I love you._

Barney presses "send" hard with his thumb. He hopes that telling his Mom that will make him feel less guilty.

_What's up? _She hasn't got the hang of using punctuation in text.

_Nothing, _he replies, _Can't a guy give his Mom some love, no questions asked?_

It sounds a bit defensive, so Barney shoves an explanation mark on the end before he sends it. He hopes that makes it look more jokey.

_If you say so,_ Loretta replies (somewhat sceptically, he notes).

_I'll call you tomorrow, _he texts.

_You're a good boy. I love you too._

Barney pockets his phone. They both know that he isn't a good boy at all, but it makes his heart feel pretty huge knowing that his Mom loves him regardless (Man, he really is Tedding out).

Barney cocks his head and tries to figure out if feels less guilty. He hopes that his mother can't see through what he just told her like she usually can- if _she_ believes that she's all he'll need, Barney'll only have to feel guilty about himself- not her as well. His head's telling him that the guilt's fading, but his conscience isn't so sure.

To make matters worse, in Barney's alphabetical contacts list, "Mom" is directly above "Nora". Barney can't even read her name without biting his lip is embarrassed shame. He really had screwed that up, hadn't he? He'd liked her but he'd panicked and ruined it. In his defence, the meet-the-parents thing had been a step too far too fast- but he shouldn't have ended their date the way he did. And no, not just because he missed out on sex with her.

He'd been scared because he'd known she was getting close to him and he can't let that happen. It shakes him like malaria to let that happen. It weakens him, and he isn't weak, doesn't want to be weak, can't be weak. At least with Robin she'd slunk under his skin without him noticing- with Nora he _had_ noticed and he was afraid, and that's why he'd got cold feet and had had to back out. He didn't care how clumsy his U-turn had been- although now he wishes he'd thought his method of backtrack through a little more. Part of him wishes that he'd had the balls to _let _her under his skin. Barney wonders if he could do that now.

Perhaps he should give her a call. He's not big on apologies- especially not apologies to women- but he owes Nora one. Not even to persuade her to give him another chance- he knows that's hopeless - but because he was a jerk and did wrong by her. The devil's advocate part of Barney's mind argues that he's a jerk to and does wrong by half the women in New York City- but with Nora it was different. He doesn't want to be a Ted about it and claim she was special, but she was…different.

Yeah, maybe he does need to call her.

His phone buzzes with an incoming text. _Scherbatsky, _the screen reads. She's been saved by that name in his various phones over the years, even though he doesn't often call her by her surname anymore.

_Did you survive? _reads her text. He can't help but smirk.

_Barely._

_That bad? *concerned yet sceptical eyebrows*_

_Nah, it was fine. Taking JJ to Laser Tag on Sat, had long talk with my dad about baseball. Riveting._

_At least you can hang out with him, _she texts back.

_I guess. Sometimes I think it's all alright and then something happens and I remember it isn't. _He pauses and writes in a hurry, _Baseball talk was OK, it felt normal and then the kid's TV broke and Jerry went to fix it. _He doesn't need to explain why that got to him.

_What did you do?_

_I said I should go, then I went. It just reminds me of everything JJ's got that I never had. _

He doesn't like having deep conversations, but it's easier on text because you don't have to look the other person in the eye.

_You're doing OK, _Robin replies, _This is tough, and you're doing OK. You're trying._

Barney feels a prickle of pride, even though she's probably only saying that to encourage him (she's more like Ted than she thinks in that way). It's true though- he is trying. Barney could have not gone to JJ's barbeque tonight, but he did because he thought that his friendship with Jerry was worth it (he tries not to think that it's more than Jerry ever thought he was worth).

Barney re-reads the text, and it occurs to him he's trying harder for his friendship with Jerry than he ever tried for his relationship with Robin. That fell apart and he let it. In some hypothetical world where now he's brave enough to tell Robin that he- well, for the purposes of this hypothetical world he's in love with her; although in truth Barney isn't sure- and they got back together…would he try harder? Would he have learnt from trying with Jerry that you have to put effort in for any kind of relationship to work? Would him and Robin stay together?

He hopes so.

_Careful- you were almost being nice to me there._

_Pfft, never. Wouldn't want you getting even more arrogant._

He likes bantering with her because they both fight dirty- never adding a smiley face when they bicker over text and picking on tiny irritating details about the other. He knows that she won't be hurt by anything he teases her about, and he likes that he doesn't have to worry about no-go areas.

Barney can't think of a comeback off the top of his head, and his mind drifts back to Jerry. Things would be so much better if it wasn't for JJ. It was easier to talk when it's just Barney and Jerry. Then, Barney can forget about the other family his father values more than he values Barney. It'd be easier if they didn't have to sit face-to face.

Hang on- what was it he though a moment ago?- _it's easier on text because you don't have to look the other person in the eye. _Aha.

Barney opens up a new composition of a text- then hesitates, chewing his lip. What should he say? He remembers writing Jerry that letter a few months ago- it had taken forever. But it's a long way back to Manhattan, so he's got the time.

_I didn't say thanks for inviting me tonight. It was nice to see you. _

Is that really boring? Is it sort of thing you'd say if it_ wasn't_ nice to see someone? Barney racks his brain but comes up blank. He breathes in and out a couple of times, closes his eyes and presses "send".

After a few minutes of staring out of the window, Barney's phone buzzes again.

_We didn't arrange to meet again,_ says Jerry. Is that a statement or a request? It's got to be request, right? Nobody would say that and not expect an answer. At least this gives Barney a script to reply with.

_When do you want to? Next weekend? We could go for a beer- I mean a milk. _Ha. Teasing his dad like regular kids do.

_One day you'll be old too. Sure, unless I need to be pick Carli up from another of her parties. We'll arrange nearer the time, OK?_

Barney exhales; half-relief, half-nervous. That wasn't too bad. They'll "arrange nearer the time,"- he's got a few days to cancel if he gets cold feet.

_OK, _he types.

Barney hopes that he won't get cold feet. Hopefully he can continue trying with his dad. (hopefully Robin will continue being proud of him). Hopefully Jerry can be more Barney's dad than he is now.

He adds- _See you then-_ but rests the phone on his knee and doesn't send the text. He could leave it there.

Barney remembers finding the photograph in his Mom's house the day she moved. He remembers driving to Samuel's house and feeling so nervous. Then they'd met Sam, and there was that awful moment where Barney knew that he was going to have to pretend he was black to keep himself sane. Back at the house later that day, his Mom held him tighter than she ever had before. When James called the next week and said that he was going to visit Samuel, and then it really hit Barney that they _do_ have different fathers; they aren't exactly the same. He remembers the evening careering around the Natural History Museum- and then getting caught, and the guard showing him the form. Barney had never been more shocked in his life, and it was like all the fun of racing round touching he exhibits was dead. He remembers feeling dizzy and dazed, and saying that he didn't want to do anything about it. He'd wanted to pretend it didn't matter. Barney remembers Lily telling him that Marshall's dad had died- and having no clue what to do or say. He'd stayed the night at Ted's, and the two of them had sat together on the couch watching reruns of MASH on some obscure cable channel- both to shocked to talk, both too scared to go to bed. Barney remembers the funeral; everyone else could empathise with Marshall because they had dads to lose, and he couldn't because he didn't. He remembers deciding to ask his Mom for his dad's address, because "never stop partying," thirty years ago didn't seem like proper last words. Even if they had done, he'd still felt that he should get in touch, since Marshall's dad was gone forever. He remembers Robin falling asleep on his shoulder on the flight back to JFK. He remembers writing and rewriting that letter, agonising over how to address his father, writing out how hurt and afraid and how messed up he knows he is- stuff he hadn't realised until that night. He'd waited impatiently for the post day after day, and jumped excitedly whenever his phone rang. He remembers lying awake two weeks after he sent it, thinking, _I don't think he's going to call, bro. _He didn't tell anyone about the letter- he told himself that he didn't care that Jerry wasn't calling back. He remembers what's-her-name's cousin using his own line back at him, and it feeling like he'd had a heart attack because he _didn't know_ the answer- and his father didn't want to _tell_ him the answer. He remembers feeling dizzy when he Nora at MacLaren's on Desperation Day, and their Laser Tag date on Valentine's Day. He'd promised Lily that he wouldn't lie to Nora, and their date that wasn't horrible at all. He honestly hadn't known if he was or wasn't about marriage and kids. Nora asked him to meet her parents and that sent a spider crawling down his spine. Barney remembers catching himself- thinking _Dude, what are you doing, don't let anybody get close- _and that's why he'd told her he'd been lying. Nora had looked really shocked and had slapped him across the face. Barney remembers going to the café and looking in- imagining himself pushing open the door, telling her "I want to be confused with you," and introducing himself to her parents- "Hi, I'm Barney, great to meet you. Hey, you want to see a magic trick?" He'd never felt more detached from the notion of a regular family than when standing on the other side of that door. He remembers walking away. He'd given the others some half-baked excuse about what had happened, and tried to forget about her. Barney remembers thinking _Oh my God _when Jerry showed up at his apartment door, and going for a drink with him. He'd been angry and disappointed at Jerry's un-legendary-ness, and he'd run all the way home. He told his friends- he told _himself_- that he evening had gone differently. He remembers his Intervention at Ted's house and Marshall's dad being _dead, _and it was that which made him give Jerry another chance. Dinner with the Whittaker's had been alright; he'd enjoyed teasing JJ- until the kid had to go and be named after their father. His father, not Barney's. It hurt and Barney did what he always does when he gets hurt-get angry. It was so _unfair _that JJ got everything Barney never had. He remembers rattling the hoop because then he could have _something, _some fraction of a regular childhood. Barney remembers Jerry shouting at him, and him shouting back- and the truths which he didn't know existed had come pouring out. He remembers walking away. Back at Ted's house, he'd told Ted that "a kid needs a hop," and Lily had held onto his arm while they all looked out into the night. Over the next couple of weeks she'd been especially sweet to him and had kept asking if he was alright. He'd always snort that he was awesome, and would point out a hot chick at the bar and describe in detail what position they'd do if he could talk her into his bed. Barney remembers Jerry inviting him fishing, and him turning it into a plan of his own- a plan to make Jerry an awesome dad even if he hadn't been a present dad. Jerry had danced like a giraffe and Barney had really felt like a son, then. Jerry had been lying the whole time, but that proved how similar they are- and Barney will never forget Jerry's face when Barney freed himself from the handcuffs. They'd driven back to the suburbs and Jerry pulled the button from behind Barney's ear- and it was that, that suggestion that Jerry didn't_ entirely_ not want him, which had persuaded Barney to go on the fishing trip. It had sucked, and Barney hadn't been able to say how awesome it was that it sucked. He remembers the times he's met Jerry since then- going for a drink together, visiting Jerry's house. He remembers accepting Jerry's invitation to the barbeque, and coming here tonight. He remembers baseball talk feeling normal- and then JJ yelling and Jerry going to teach his _real _son the things he never taught Barney. He thinks about Lily and Marshall and Robin and Ted and James and his Mom and Carli and JJ and Jerry.

It's been a funny old few months.

He shouldn't leave the conversation there. Barney picks up his phone again and adds a sentence.

_Enjoy watching the Yankees game on Saturday, Dad._

Fourteen.

They're getting there.

**Fin.**

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**Well, that's your lot. Thank you so much for sticking with this, especially everyone who reviewed (and thank you in advance to those of you who will definitely be reviewing this chapter, ****_hint hint_****). I hope this chapter was a good ending, and that you enjoyed the whole story.**

**Thanks again.**


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